


The Lieutenant

by Nelarun



Series: The Mandalorian Heresy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Are We The Baddies?, F/M, For my players, OCs Abound, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), SWRPG, Terrible things happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29413527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelarun/pseuds/Nelarun
Summary: The Lieutenant was having a pretty steller career until the Republic fell and the Empire rose. Well that didn't really change anything, until he tried to enlist and instead of being a lawyer with the army he became a recruitment officer with the navy. "Paperwork issue." Facts remained, he wouldn't have been in this situation if the pretty togruta hadn't come in and ruined his life.The good lieutenant went through a lot with the party, only to meet an untimely demise in the middle of a market on Onderon. This is his story, told from his point of view.AKA: my players are ruthless and leave a trail of bodies and devastation behind them, it's a wonder the Empire hasn't destroyed them yet. This is the first mission from the point of view of one of the NPCs.Updates will happen when I'm sure I won't spoil anything for my players...
Series: The Mandalorian Heresy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160741





	The Lieutenant

You ever hear the joke about the lawyer who signed up for the army and ended up in the navy? No? It's a good one. Let me tell it to you.

So this lawyer, young up and comer, you know the type – passionate, starry eyed, out to save the galaxy, existing on nothing more than caff and justice – worked tirelessly throughout the Civil War, apologies, the Clone Wars. He worked on everything relating to refugees – their rights, resettlmenets, compensation, getting them set up in safe places until their homes were safe to return to. He was good at it and was recognised for his efforts.

Then the Republic became an Empire, not too much changed for the lawyer, the only change he really saw was that official letterhead on government notices had changed. This lawyer would work for a few more years sorting out the aftermath of war, getting being resettled and keeping on top of all the new laws. And then one day, a garrison commander suggested that he sign up for the army. “The Empire could always use more good lawyers in uniform.”

And this lawyer was very good.

So he went to the recruitment centre, filled out the paperwork and was sent to the navy as a recruitment officer.

The lawyer was doing recruitment. In the navy.

Imperial HQ says they're working on it, the lawyer isn't holding his breath. Me. I'm the lawyer. I'm not holding my breath.

I mean it's not the worst thing I've ever done. The food is relatively good, they're willing to send me back to university for further education, and I've actually been on some really interesting training courses, and I get a clean bunk and warm clothes. The clones are pretty decent, and I get on with my colleagues in the Hosk Station Recruitment Centre.

Hosk Station was a feat of incredible engineering. See millenia ago the Alderanni actually saw this chunk of rock in an unstable orbit and had the genius idea to turn it into a space station. They corrected the orbit and covered the entire rock in a space station which has been segmented into various habitable sections, enough that every spacefaring species in the galaxy can find a section to call home.

Certainly where I've called home for the last two months since finishing basic and then a crash course in recruitment when the officers realised that I had no clue what I was doing, then officers school because I'm an over achiever. Or at least that's what my little sister says. We're actually fortunate that we don't have to stay on barracks. There are a series of apartments that are paid for by the Judiciary that we can use. I don't even have to share.

My family sent me a care package and assurances that they were happy to help me out, but until then mum sent me holos that I promised I'd set up around the apartment, dad sent me a care package full of liquor, and my baby sister sent me some of me favourite holo novels and a pot plant. I'm still not sure how she managed to get that through customs requirements, or how it survived the trip alive.

Ah. Turns out dad sent the customs officers an aged bottle of something or other. I should probably report it, bribery and corruption and all that, but I'm also happy to wallow in the proceeds of gross misconduct.

Life on Hosk station was pretty good, the recruitment system was confusing, one of my colleagues explained that it was simple when one got used to it, but there would always be an element of overly burdensome administration that they would just have to deal with. I'm a lawyer, I'm good with paperwork, but this was a bit excessive.

Still – some of the kids who were keen to serve were too young. Or perhaps they weren't? 13 is technically when kids can apply for emancipation and service is seen as an acceptable reason to become a legal adult in the eyes of the galaxy. But I'm not the galaxy, and these are kids from perfectly decent homes. If it's adventure they're seeking, they can get some skills and sign up in a couple of years. Basic is hard on adults, it would crush most of these kids.

But apart from the occasional child trying to sneak onto my recruitment list, I had a fairly idyllic lifestyle. Hosk is home to a number of cafes and restaurants, a few clubs, some pretty beings, and then _she_ appeared.

Would it be lame to call her my angel?

Yes. It would be.

Am I going to call her that anyway?

Ah, because you are a journal, you missed the sigh of contentment I just made. Big sigh, happy sound, shoulders relaxing, smile, the whole thing.

My angel is a togruta. She walked into the recruitment centre with some humans and a droid. I studied her, sighing internally at the way she moved, the polite tone as she spoke, the hand on her perfect hip. And then I realised she was looking at me like I was simpleminded and told myself to focus. “We were sent here to collect a bounty?”

Right, mercenaries. Roy had mentioned that a group of mercs had delivered Bolan Bast and they were being sent over to finish the transaction. I'm pretty sure I handled that smoothly and didn't stammer about how I was here by accident and would have to get my supervisor to assist. Surely I didn't fumble over my words, because this angel, no! This goddess of beings! She smiled and started flirting with me.

Surprisingly the uniform doesn't help with the dating scene. I blame the trousers, they don't hug the bum nearly as much as they ought to to assist with dating, but as Sierra said once, _Yrew, they aren't made for dating... they're a uniform._ Shut up Sierra, just because you went on to become a pilot and your bums so flat from sitting all day... Okay. That was uncalled for. Apologies.

So we're flirting, my Captain comes out to give them their reward and I ask the Togrutan (her name is Zee, non-humans have weird naming conventions), over for dinner. She accepts! So I give her the key code to the apartment and register her as an approved user and give her a time.

I know it's not standard, and I'd probably get in a lot of trouble for doing this, but it's not like anyone was going to find out, and I was definitely going to change the codes after our date. And sure it's probably a little weird having someone come over to my apartment on the first date, but it's a space station and the gardens are full at the moment with parties, and while I like kids, I don't want screaming kids around on a first date.

So dinner it is!

The prospect of dinner with a pretty being got me through the rest of the shift and I didn't even care that my Captain is sleeping on the job or the privates are clearly talking about crashing that fancy gala being held in the third quadrant gardens. So long as they did it out of uniform I could actually care less about what they chose to do on their own time. The garrison could deal with them and I'd sic the Captain on them if they got themselves arrested. Of course, just as I was about to sign off for the evening, a kid appears and my subordinates disappear, so naturally on the one night when I actually want to be out on time and don't have any urgent legal work to do, I have to stay back. Because nothing is easy.

Well this was. The kid was enthusiastic and getting an escort home from an Imperial officer made his eyes shine with wonder. There were times when everything was worth it, listening to his idle chatter as he swung our joined hands was one of them. And thankfully it didn't take me out too far out of my way and I was able to stop by the market to pick up some fresh food supplies. Peril of being a confirmed bachelor on a space station surrounded by cafes and restaurant. I didn't need to cook. I liked cooking, but between my shift at the recruitment centre and my pro bono work on the station, I was usually too tired to cook a proper meal. “It's just 20 minutes, Yrew,” mum would say. But 20 minutes could be an eternity after a long day.

And hey – supporting small business right? Gotta keep the economy going and all that.

As I approached my apartment, I wondered if Zee had already arrived. It wasn't like anything exciting or classified was laying around. Maybe she was an alcoholic and had found all the bottles? Eh. Worst comes, I would just replace them. It wasn't like I was a big drinker anyway. I approach and see that the door was unlocked and smile. She'd actually come. I juggled the bottle of Hon Vale wine under my arm holding the supplies and palmed the door open.

I feel like a lot would have been different if I had just looked up and not been so focused on not dropping the wine. If I'd just looked _up_.

But I didn't. And now my life turns from a pleasant joke to a tail spin that left me dying from a blade to my chest.

And it all started here.

“Hey Zee, sorry I'm late. Shift went over by a little bit – this kid came in determined to be a pilot. He was ten. I had to take him home first and explain why he couldn't enlist at ten. Stay in school, kid. Get good grades... Anyway. I know you're Togrutan so I stopped to grab some steak for dinner...” And that's when I look up and see an old man holding a blaster on me. I look over his shoulder to see Zee standing in the background.

Naturally I leaned on years of training, both as a lawyer and an Imperial Officer to act swiftly and decisively and interrogate them.

Okay. That's a lie. I hold my hands up, dropping the wine that broke and started leaking on the floor, and the bag of supplies that spilled out. And my interrogative techniques betrayed me too and the only thing I said was “Uh...” Uh? Really Yrew. That's all you can say? I did realise that Zee's gaze was cold and emotionless.

Well frak.

People think getting stunned is just blackness. It's not. When you're stunned your body is actually overloaded and has to shut down to recalibrate. Most stun weapons are set to human standards, which actually makes them really dangerous to use against non-humans, or the very young or the elderly. I should know – the number of times I've had to advise against using a stun weapon on a non-human. These weapons can and do kill just as easily as a blaster bolt. It's just that usually you don't _see_ the brain melting or the organs failing, or the electrical impulses stopping, so it looks fine.

But even for a human getting stunned is a traumatic experience and your body and your brain deals with that is a variety of ways. One study actually registered the effects of being stunned on humans compared to other bipedal beings and humans tend to not be entirely unconscious. We dream, but our dreams overlap with reality. For example, I was trapped in a terrible dream, but I was also away that they were dragging me towards the wardrobe. They were stuffing me in the wardrobe.

Turns out my angel is crazy.

I hope they put the steak away...

So maybe my priorities are a little skewed, but it's actual meat on a space station! Usually we just get the reconstituted stuff, which is usually in the form of some cereal grain. While delicious (mmm chemicals), it's not the same as actual meat! And she's a Togruta! I know they're mostly carnivorous! See if I'm nice to anyone ever again.

Mum, if you ever read this of course I'm going to be nice to people again. I'm just dealing with the fact that my angel is a villain.

I don't know how long they kept me stunned for, I do know that they stunned me again (that cannot be good for my heart...), they chatted about what to do with me, and for a moment actually considered spacing me (which hello, rude!) and that I'd missed at least one shift by the time I woke up tied to my bed, stripped to my underwear and staring at a tall man (not the one who had shot me...) who was definitely not Zee. “Uh...” I said, because apparently I'm eloquent like that.

The man blinked down at me before he looked almost panicked. “Oh no!” he said. “We... the three of us that is, we didn't...” Three? I looked over and saw Zee standing just to the side, she smiled faintly at me and I looked back at the sheets that had been torn up and used to tie me to the bed.

“No, no,” I agreed. I'm not sure what I was really agreeing to, but the guy had a blaster at his hip and I don't exactly have the upper hand in this situation. “So what's with the ties?” and the underwear? Though I decided not to ask that. Some things just really shouldn't be asked.

Zee approached me and yeah – she's hot but I'm not sure if it'll work out between us after this. The home invasion and the tying me up. You know what's hot, Zee? Consent! Consent is hot. This was the last time I was giving my apartment code out to someone I just met. Yeah. That was stupid of me. “Look, Lieutenant. I'll be honest with you. We're here on a job.”

What follows was a mess of words and a situation that sounded like something out of a bad holodrama – one of the moons leaving orbit to tear the planet apart? Pfft. Magical rocks that were turned sentient beings because of exposure to the sun? What do they take me for? A kid?

Why are all the cute ones crazy?

Sorry mum. I know you raised me better. But do you want grandkids? I'd try adoption but no, the family is all 'do your part for your community' and 'blood matters' and 'children are the future.' Well guess what mum, so is happiness!

Not that I'm particularly happy at the moment... but that's because I've been tied up and stunned. Twice.

They eventually let me up which is good because I need the fresher. And a shower. A water shower, none of this sonic stuff we have to use because water is for drinking, not bathing. Stupid space station. Afterwards, I join the group in my living room and they introduce me to their handler. And would you know it but my luck actually _can_ get worse. Apparently they work for a mandalorian. I sigh and move to the kitchenette, finding the bottle of corellian whisky dad sent me and pour myself a generous glass.

It's almost full.

I can't really find it in me to care.

The mandalorian is talking about how she wants me to assist her little mercenary group. Yeah, cause that's going to happen. They're lucky that I haven't hit the silent alarm which will have a squad of troopers arriving and arresting everyone in the room. I'm not vindictive, but a couple of months of hard labour sounds about right for the deprivation of liberties, home invasion, and stunning someone twice!

“I hear there's been a paperwork mix up and you're supposed to be a lawyer with the army, not a recruitment officer tied to the navy?” I do not want to know how this mando knew that. Or maybe I told Zee? That day was a blur. My head is pounding. I feel cheated. If I'm going to have the symptoms of a hangover, the least I could do was have fun first.

“Yes.”

“I can have someone fix that up for you if you help my team out. Get you back to Coruscant and your family.” I blink. There was a catch. There was always a catch. Mandalorians were never this helpful. “Of course, if you betray us, your family, your _holo perfect family_ – beautiful little sister, mother who teaches young children, and father a magistrate and arbitrator, all upstanding members of society – they'll meet a terrible and extremely final fate. And of course, all the evidence will point to you.” I wasn't even surprised. Mandalorains were the worst. I lift my overly full glass of whisky and offer her a tight smile and a mocking salute.

I should report this. I'm not sure why I didn't.

I go to work, accept the reprimand for not reporting for duty yesterday, but apparently I look bad enough (I was stunned twice) that my Captain didn't push it further, just told me to look in on my squad and man the desk. Apparently they didn't appreciate having to deal with the privates. I didn't appreciate having to deal with the privates.

It was actually nice. The kid from the other day returned, but this time with a parent who thanked me for bringing their kid home. It made me forget the crazy not-girlfriend and the whole being blackmailed by a mandalorian situation for a little while.

Just after I said 'goodbye' to the kid, handing them some promotional materials because my family was right, kids were the future and if this one actually kept his enthusiasm going, he would be ripe for command material. He might even serve with Darth Vader or Admiral Thrawn one day! (And that made the kid's eyes shine at the idea). I received a message. _We need the laser walls down._ Of course they do.

The laser walls separating the hanger and docking stations and customs from the rest of the space station. Just that. It wasn't like I was risking the safety and well being of everyone on this space station. I was about to turn to find the Captain when I remembered my little sister. She was supposed to visit me in a few weeks. And my mum would never smile again – never sing to her students. And dad... I get it, why people will do terrible things to protect ones they love, because here I was, casually taking down the laser walls like it was a normal day.

Everything seemed fine for a while, and then the screaming started.

I've worked in a lot of war zones before. I've worked in the aftermath of war zones, when the Jedi and the war machine had moved on to the next theatre and the rest of us had to pick up the pieces. This was similar to that. Chaos and screaming. The private drew the attention of two security droids, asking what was going on. They turned, raising their blasters and shooting the private. Well the private was an idiot and the bane of my shift, but that wasn't a death sentence, so I blasted them first and ordered the other privates to alert the garrison that the security droids had malfunctioned as another immediately grabbed a first aid kit to try to save their comrade.

It was pointless.

I raced outside to see what was going on and the droids were straight up murdering beings. A few civilians run past and I order them into the recruitment centre. Frightened people will sometimes listen to a calm voice. It worked this time. That I was in uniform helped as well. Yes, that's right. I'm with the Empire, we're here to help.

Sir, if you're reading this, that wasn't sarcasm. Also yes, I'm aware that this is probably very incriminating evidence... I don't have a defence.

I continued moving through the station, shooting droids with my holdout blaster, moving as many civilians to better shielded areas – including the bounty hunters guild, the slave market and the Black Sun run bar. My heart pounded with adrenaline as I moved, wondering when this became my life. I was a lawyer, not a soldier. And yet here I was, sneaking through the halls of a space station, shooting all droids because a _mouse droid_ had tried its best to break my ankle! All the droids had gone insane.

Huh, could droids go insane?

Obviously this wasn't an important thought, but working through the legal ramifications and developing arguments for and against a droid insanity plea kept me calm as I tried to save as many beings as I could, wondering where the garrison was.

Ah. the residential district. That's where. Where everyone had droids in their apartments because _of course we did_. The carnage was incredible. Devastating. Not all the droids were equipped with blasters or sparkers. Some had access to blades, others the control to life support. There was a body that had been charred, others were stumbling out gasping for air, troopers escorting them out, dealing with the droids and getting the civilians to safety.

The garrison commander saw me standing there and hurried over, demanding to know what I was doing. “Lieutenant, you need to get back to the recruitment centre!”

I didn't give him a withering look, he outranked me, I would definitely be brought up on insubordinate charges if I had. But it was tempting. “Sir,” I said. “I've been looking for survivors.”

The commander scowled. “I don't care. Get back to the recruitment centre and deal with those civilians. Those of us in armour will deal with it.”

Two of his men stepped forward to provide an escort and provide additional security at the centre.

Considering that troopers looked down on us in recruitment because we didn't have a real job and weren't authorised to carry a rifle on duty, it was nice of them. Of course we were soldiers and we look out for our own. On the way back I saw the kid lying in the corridor and my stomach lurched. The kid had been a bit of a brat, but he had been a kid. Someone who idolised the troopers and wanted to sign up for the infantry. The infantry of all things. And now he was dead because of my actions.

The troopers firmly remind me that they need to get me back to the recruitment centre. Right, because if I delayed us any further more kids could be murdered by these psycho droids.

The centre is almost full of civilians – some are receiving first aid, others are sitting quietly in shock. Breha from the tapcaff across the way approached me as the troopers took up position at the doors, looking towards customs. And my blood froze. Had anyone seen the customs officers? “Do you have tea or caff supplies?” As I guided Breha to our break room, I heard my Captain in his office getting in more troops from across the station. And maybe that wasn't a good thing? Maybe this was a planned attack to leave another sector vulnerable, but we couldn't think about that now. We had to stop the droids before the entire sector was massacred and they moved onto the next sectors. Which was not a pleasant thought.

I guided Breha to our break room and she immediately filled the kettles with water and got them boiling. I moved to the cupboard pulling out all the cups we had, found the milk and sugar and our precious stashes of hot chocolate. And then remembering the face of the kid, I reach up to the tin of sweet and delicious biscuits. I'd pay to have more provided if I had to, but right now, these represented that everything would be okay. And that's what we ended up telling everyone.

“ _It's okay, we'll be out of here soon. The troopers are dealing with the droids.”_

“ _It's okay, we'll be out of here soon. The soldiers are here for our safety.”_

“ _It's okay, we'll be out of here soon.”_

I didn't expect 'soon' to include the arrival of two Inquisitors, the destruction of the last of the rogue droids, and for them to black bag me and take me to their ship.

I would be lying if I said that I wasn't scared. I had a bag over my head, my hands were cuffed behind my back and it was almost a week's journey to Coruscant. They didn't introduce themselves, but anytime Inquisitors became involved it was never good. They didn't do social calls as it were. They never took the hood off though they did allow me to use the fresher and they fed me ration cubes. For that alone, I'd probably rate it slightly higher than my previous capture by Zee and her band of murderers.

I briefly wondered if this was the mandalorian's way of getting me back to coruscant. If so, I'd have to have words with them.

Ah, who am I kidding. Like I was going to take on a mandalorian.

It was a relief when we landed and I was escorted through the Temple, not that I saw much of it owing to the bag on my head. Pity. I'd always liked looking at it as a kid. But I'd never had the honour to see inside. I was shown to a room with a single bed against one wall and a fresher in a second room. Oh thank all the gods – water shower! “You have twenty minutes,” one of the purge troopers who had escorted me in informed me and I nodded as they folded the bag and removed my cuffs. Ah, freedom.

There was a fresh uniform in my size behind the door of the fresher and I threw my old and grimy uniform in the laundry chute – I assume someone would deal with it – before luxuriating in the hot water. It had been so long.

Unfortunately this came to an end and I was ready and waiting for the door to open and for them to escort me to an interview room. It was actually a little bit relieving that I was being taken to an interview room and not an interrogation cell. Meant they didn't have anything concrete on me yet.

And then the Third Sister walks into the room, a datapad tucked under her arm, her helmet was off and cold grey eyes bore into mine. Have you ever taken a gulping breath of air only to realise that you'd somehow breathed wrong and now you were choking on the very thing designed to keep you alive? That was the Third Sister. And yes, we had been in the same ship for the better part of a week, but she hadn't actually spoken to me at all, or even really be around me.

For anyone reading this who doesn't know the Third Sister, I have to wonder where you've been since the formation of the Empire. The Third Sister is one of the most impressive red blades, the only one to be stationed on Coruscant and not on Mustafar or the Fortress Inquisitorius (wherever that was). She was the one the Emperor and Lord Vader sent in when all other viable solutions had failed. She was the one who had unlocked the holocron vaults and restored history and knowledge to the galaxy after the Jedi had hoarded it. She was also the one who had shot all those kids those rebels were hiding behind...

“Good morning lieutant,” she didn't sit. I would have weirdly felt better if she sat down. She set the datapad down and my angel and her brutes were staring up at me. “Do you recognise these beings?” Of course I recognised them. But what was an Inquisitor doing hunting thugs? Surely the army could deal with them? “We believe they're responsible for the recent disruption on Hosk Station. They were seen entering your apartment. And then you missed a shift.”

The door opened and I looked back to see two purge troopers stepping inside and I nearly choked on my fear again. The Third Sister's purge troopers were legendary, they were a fearsome unit who promised protection to the citizens of the empire and death to their enemies.

At this moment I wasn't sure which one I was.

“I... slept through my shift.”

She nodded as though what I'd said was entirely reasonable. “Slept through a shift. Lieutenant, in all your years as a lawyer and in service to your Empire, you've never slept through a shift.” And was that ice running down my spine? Or was that just fear triggering an adrenaline response? “What is your relation to the accused?”

“They came into the recruitment centre a couple of days before the attack, they'd been sent there to pick up a reward for bringing in a known terrorist. I asked the togruta on a date. That's all.”

“And the togruta forced her way into your apartment, and held you hostage?” I could feel my face flaming. I was an Imperial officer, I should have been better than that.

“They stunned me multiple times, sister.”

“Ah, and when you woke, you helped these terrorists to murder almost everyone in that sector.” Her voice was liquid, seeping into my veins and freezing them with ice. Flashes of a little boy lying dead in a corridor, body still smoking from blaster fire filled my mind. How many people had I condemned to save my family?

“No Sister,” I said. “I...” My throat was closing up on my own lie. “I loved the denizens of that station. I would never have assisted them. I woke up tied to my bed and the togruta walking away. I thought I'd just drunk too much. I certainly felt hungover. I realised later that they actually stunned me and then I went through and changed all my passcodes. It's in the station report, Sister.”

That was true enough, I'd covered my tracks as best as I could. Not even ISB would be able to find any fault with my cover, and I'm sure they were looking.

The Sister studied me before she picked up the datapad. “Perhaps,” she allowed, tilting her head, and I suddenly knew what a prey animal being stalked by a predator felt like. “Perhaps some time in solitude will assist your memory. Or drive you insane. Whichever comes first.”

I was thrown back in my room and the door was locked and I took stock of my surroundings.

Firstly. I was alive and relatively unharmed.

Secondly. I didn't know how long I would be here for. But I had a clean bed and a fresher with warm water (though I also assumed they would be able to turn the warm water off if they so desired) .

Thirdly. I had water. I didn't know if they would actually feed me, but human beings can last for weeks without food so long as they had access to water.

Fourthly. If they actually thought I was involved, I would have disappeared already. And not to the Temple. I would have gone to a place that doesn't exist and it would have been like I had never existed.

This was a test.

Or a punishment for letting a crazy but pretty girl into my life.

I dropped back onto my bed, arm slung over my eyes, images of my family flashing through my mind. "Frak." 


End file.
